


Hope Ensnared

by DelightfulDesperation



Series: Pandora's Box [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Could be Considered a Form of Incest, Dark relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Kinks, M/M, Shameless Smut, mentions of abuse, mentions of the avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6073651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelightfulDesperation/pseuds/DelightfulDesperation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Previously in Hope Abandoned: Thor becomes an unwilling participant to the Alpha Omega dynamic and flees to Asgard. What happens when Loki plays along with it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope Ensnared

**Author's Note:**

> This is a teaser chapter. I wanted to at least break it in by addressing some sort of plot as there will most likely be no other mention of it past this point. We shall see.

Asgard, a beautiful paradise with lush greenery and vibrant skies.

Home of the gods.

Thor slammed into the gate so abruptly, the thought of being under attack was forefront on his mind. Swinging his arms wildly, he connected with nothing and went careening to the side. Thor focused and tried to still his wavering body as confusion settled in. 

Where…Oh. Home. Beloved Asgard.

Not under attack.

Good.

The blond slumped in relief and brought Mjolnir down to his side. The last thing he needed to do was destroy something innocent. His friends…Thor grimaced at the thought. They would be fine. Everything would be fine.

Turning as a child would, unsteady and precarious, Thor found the fierce protector and his friend, Hiemdal, staring down at him from his pedestal with a hand warily held out to him. “Are you well, Son of Odin?”

Thor averted his gaze and nodded slowly. “I am…well enough, friend.”

Eyes that knew all too well of the god’s predicament and the outcome of it all studied the blond anyway. “Do you wish for me to accompany you?” The soft words were offered kindly, though Hiemdal knew the answer already.

Thor huffed a laugh and staggered before righting himself. “No. No, I will make it on my own. I appreciate your words all the same.” 

Nodding in resignation, Hiemdal watched Thor make his way out of his domain. The blonde’s feet barely registered the movements his body wanted to make. He closed his eyes and prayed that he would make it to his rooms, to anywhere he could be away from his people; from those he cared for, and sleep. Let go. Get this confounded concoction from his body. 

“Fool that I am,” he mumbled to himself and couldn’t help the manic laugh that accompanied the words. Trust Stark to pull the ground from beneath his feet. If he wasn’t acutely aware of the Trickster god…at this moment the devilish vixen was quite possibly lavishing in the throne room, his throne room. He would swear that if Odin were to mock him, he would, of course, reincarnate a human version. God, Stark was so similar… but, Loki.

Loki.

A quick succession of images flickered through his mind. Loki, deliciously cruel smile tilted toward him. Loki, hand delicately sliding down his arm as they pass in the hall. Loki, anger and hurt turning his demeanor into venomous hatred as he leaves, betrayed. Loki, captured and muffled, eyes glaring daggers through him. Loki, broken by mother’s passing, seeking comfort and help. Loki, coming home and accepting his embrace. 

Loki, Loki, Loki.

Thor closed his eyes and exhaled shakily, a need so primal ripping through his heart and leaving him yearning. Damn the Heavens. Opening his eyes again, he found himself travelling toward his home, full out running with no sense memory of doing so. He barely felt the wind kiss his face or the slow burn in his leg muscles. He needed to get to Loki. He would know what to do. He would be able to help him. 

This throbbing…by all that was holy, he would collapse and fulfill himself if he knew that this would be the outcome Stark was talking about. This needed to end.

~

Sprawled over the lavish arms of the throne, Loki effortlessly twirled his scepter and tried to stifle his mounting boredom. Thor had been gone for less than a week and he was already reaching his limits. It didn’t help that he was chained to this realm. He knew the looks of disdain from the people, from his once trusted friends, were well deserved. Yet, the one person meant to turn their back and refuse to acknowledge him…never did. In fact, Thor merely brought him closer, enfolding him within the reach of his protection. Keeping him within the royal grounds. Letting him be treated as the prince of Asgard he once was.

As long as he obeyed the rules. 

Loki scoffed and threw his scepter in a fit of peak. His blasted, goody-two-shoes, beloved brother now held him within a gilded cage. And he was actually following along like the little lost puppy he was. The resounding clang and sparks from the discarded scepter did nothing to alleviate his temper. 

Robes flowing over his body much like a liquid ripple, the trickster god stood and paced down the stairs. Holding his hand up in the golden light, he allowed the human flesh to melt away and his frost giant genes to show. Frigid blue skin with elegant markings glared back at him. Everything…every last thing he had tried was all for naught. He too was just a pawn in a horrid game meant to kill and destroy. 

He had known this, and had done such despicable acts anyway. 

Loki called the glamour back into place and beckoned his staff back to him. Lifting a brow as he studied the intricate details carved into it, the thought of Thor and his little friends playing the same game, of the puppetry behind their actions, caused a bark of laughter to escape. Though it might not have been purely his own design, he had watched the harm and devastation caused to the ones he was called to love. He could not say that he didn’t enjoy the devious acts. A cruel smile decorated his features as he swept into a dance, illusions springing to life around him. 

There was the boisterous, the proud, the vain; all of the mocking faces he once treated with avid regard and some even garnered respect.

And there was the pining twit of a girl, strong in her ways and jealous in all others.

There was the loyal friend.

And Heimdal, eyes that even now, illusion or not, could see right through him and catalogue every little mistake and error. 

Loki slowed in his macabre dance and stilled at the memory of the loving caress and soft eyes that still calmed him even now. Mother, kind soul and innocent in her ways, she was the one that no harm should have befallen. He called up every detail he could remember of her and gently, oh so gently, kissed her fair cheek. 

“I miss you.” The whisper, faint as the ghost before him, startled Loki’s concentration and the image before him shimmered. “No. Please, not yet.” He steadied his mind and his mother solidified once again. “Must I always lose those precious to me?” He carded his hand through the golden locks and felt what his mind perceived to be silken strands. Freya leaned into the touch, always smiling and eyes following his every move. 

“I wonder, Mother…if you were to know what I have become, would you so easily allow my touch? Look at me with such favor? Would you be able to look at your precious Thor the same way, knowing what I see in him? What I _want_?”

The illusion did not so much as blink, the smile unwavering as he picked up a delicate hand and pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles. “Do you not speak because deep within myself I know I cannot bear to hear you say the harsh words I know you to harbor? Or rather, is it possible I myself cannot stand to hear your kindness?” Silence reigned through the hall. Taking pity on himself, he glided toward the image and began a slow dance, allowing his mother to shift and sway along with him. 

Calling forth a stronger illusion, Loki weaved his spell and cast the throne room into the glorious image of decadent parties of old. The cadence of music and chatter filled the air. People sprang up to fill in the empty space, passing acquaintances making a reappearance to mingle with closer friends and those considered family. 

“You always fit best within a celebration, Mother,” Loki murmured, calmly spinning them around the throngs of people. The illusion merely gazed at him in wonder, the mysterious smile never wavering. “And you gave that gift to _him_ …”

A spark of blonde hair and a stony gaze had the trickster falter in his footing, the illusion flickering like a light. He turned and found Thor staring him down, dressed for battle. “Thor,” the name ripped from his being like a gut punch. His gift began to glow brighter, the scene surrounding the room reaching a crescendo. Without realizing it, he left his ghostly mother behind and stalked toward the blonde.

Thor, menacing and positively dripping with sweat, matched his strides exactly, shifting through the people without seeing them. Standing face to face, Loki allowed the licks of darkness to unfurl within and found Thor matching his feelings with a quiet growl. 

“ _Brother_. Whatever are you doing? You’re positively an animal, and in front of all these people.” Loki gestured around them, allowing his eyes to flicker away for only a moment.

“Send them away, brother. **NOW**.”

The words, husky, deep, alluring…Loki curled his lips into a smile and flicked his hands, the room instantly losing the warmth and cheer of people and music. “Better?”

Thor eyed the empty hall and grunted, moving around the trickster. Loki’s eye twitched with irritation at the clear dismissal. “Thor.” He grabbed at the grimy arm and felt the tension in the muscle combined with the clammy skin. “Are you…unwell?”

Thor rocked to a halt at the touch and shivered, heart skittering out of his control. “Brother, unhand me,” he croaked out, weakly pulling at his captured arm. “Please. You must go.”

Loki’s grip tightened as the sting of the words were buried underneath anger. “Why should I do such a thing?”

Thor glanced at the piercing green eyes, desperation clawing his insides. He gently covered the tight grip with his other hand and lightly brushed the milky skin. “Loki, you must understand. There are…circumstances that…elude me at best. I cannot-will not…”

The trickster loosened his grip and allowed the caresses to his hand, shocked by the display more than anything. “Enlighten me. **Tell me**.”

Thor gritted his teeth and carefully pried the hand away from his arm, stepping away. “Something has gone awry with…my-my…” Shaking his head, the blonde vaguely gestured at himself. “Me. I do not wish to harm you, brother.”

“Harm?” Loki sneered. “You could not harm a single hair on me, dearest. You are too full of _compassion_.” The trickster glided forward for every step Thor took away, a poor game of cat and mouse. 

“You know not what you say. I beg you, brother. Please…” Putting his hands up in a poor attempt to ward away, Thor stumbled and fell to a knee. 

Seizing the chance, Loki leaned over and picked up a few strands of blond hair, letting them card through his fingers. The labored breaths and sweating brow of his brother twisted an unpleasant feeling into the trickster’s gut. A twinge of upset, perhaps? “Tell me, brother mine,” Loki murmured, boldly touching a reddened cheek with his knuckles. “What has befallen you?”

Thor bit down on the sigh of relief as the cool hand touched his heated skin. Wonderful…truly. Focusing as best he could, the blond shook his head slowly, dislodging the comfort and wrestling a mewl of sadness from him. He could not use his brother. He would not…he would… “Loki… _please_! I cannot bring this torture upon you.” 

Despairing blue eyes turned to Loki and the trickster gritted his teeth at the rumbling of emotions from within. He did allow one to show: frustration. Sliding his hand to the root of the blond hair, Loki grabbed a fistful and pulled. “I can only be so plain with you when you refuse to elaborate. Speak clearly. What. Has. Happened?”

Thor jerked, surprise and a shot of pleasure spearing through him from the brutal treatment. Baring his teeth, he grabbed onto the extended arm and glared at the haughty figure. “You would take the answer from me?”

Loki’s lip twitched as he moved closer, merely breathing the answer. “I would.”

Heart hammering at the proximity, Thor licked his chapped lips and tried to keep his eyes from wandering to Loki’s curved lips. “Stark…he-” 

A murderous snarl cut off the rest of Thor’s words. Those taunting green eyes turned black with hatred as Loki’s face warped into a mask of evil. The blond stared in shock at the rapid transformation and he winced in pain as the fist in his hair jerked him forward. “Stark?! That wretched, foul-mouthed _human_. What has he done to you?”

“Nothing that cannot be undone. Brother, please. He meant no harm…” Thor huffed out a breath at the painfully tight grip on his hair, trying to ignore the heat that shot straight through him.

Slowly moving to Thor’s ear, Loki registered the dilated pupils and flushed skin of the blond and chuckled. He flicked his tongue out and ghosted the appendage over the shell of the pink-tinged ear. “My patience is waning. **What** exactly have you and Stark done?”

The painful restriction of clothing kept Thor’s arousal from showing too proudly as his eyes glazed over, a soft groan slipping out unimpeded. Loki moved back to face his brother, loosening his hold enough to card his fingers once again through the blond waves. “Well, dearest? You didn’t answer me.”

Shuddering at the heady feeling, the blond pulled his bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it with a sigh. “Some concoction. I drank some sort of spell that has done _something_ to me. I confess…I feel strange, brother mine. I cannot control myself.” Thor frowned and turned blue eyes up to the Trickster, hands reaching out to clasp onto the velvety soft robes. “…Help me, Loki.”

Begging. Startled at the sight before him, Loki’s mouth parted to let out a rush of air. Thor was practically _begging_ , and for HIM? Loki drank in the sight and allowed his arousal to build. If he could get Thor on his knees, what else could he accomplish with the blond in such a state? Loki smirked and narrowed his eyes. “How could I not when you are kneeling before me?”

Thor furrowed his brows, trying to think through the hazy confusion in his mind. “I do not want to hurt anyone.”

“I know, Thor. You always detested using others as I have,” Loki murmured, gliding his hands over the strong arms clasping his cloak. “But you have always been so strong. Mother was always so proud of that.”

“Mmm…” Thor closed his eyes and basked in the feel of Loki’s hands, that cool touch sending spikes of gooseflesh over his body. “What are you doing?”

The Trickster easily pried the blonde’s hands loose and entwined their fingers, bringing the rough tips to his mouth. “Oh beloved brother,” he whispered through them. “You will have to trust me. I know not what you have been up to with those foolish mortals you cavort with. How can I truly know you will be well, or that you and I shall be safe, when you act so abhorrently?”

Thor jerked back at the words, falling away from the sense of calm. Loki held fast to his hands, though he weakly struggled to free them. “Brother! How can you be so cruel? I am trying…”

“Shhh, quiet yourself, pet,” Loki leaned forward, sending a frigid blast of air to startle the blond into halting his futile attempts to flee. “I know you are trying and I am just doing what I can to help, remember? You asked that of me.”

Thor slumped and cast his eyes down, finally nodding in acquiesce. “I did. But I did not ask to be treated as a servant.”

Loki’s hands gently let go and moved to the thick wrists, holding them as he weaved a spell. “I did not make you kneel, dear brother. You chose that position on your own.”

“I don’t-” Thor shook his head in denial before he felt the pull of magic encircling him. “Loki, what is going on?” Heavy cuffs chained together hung suspended before Thor’s gaze before slithering icy tendrils toward his captured arms. “What…?” The cuffs encircled his wrists and seared his skin, a hiss escaping gritted teeth. 

“Needs must, brother darling. If we are to be sure of our safety, it might be best to keep you chained. For now.”

“WHAT?!” Widened eyes snapped up to meet the frigid, green gaze before him. “Loki! This is madness!” Stumbling back to his feet, Thor strained at his bonds and felt the bitter cut of icy metal. “Take these off me at once!”

A devilish smirk appeared as Loki watched rage begin to build. “Now, now, Thor. I believe I am only being…cautious.” He raised a hand and reached, feeling the tug of magic connect with his fingertips. “It would not do to have you run amok.”

The blazing anger Thor turned on him at that only made Loki raise a brow at him. Thor stepped forward and held up his shackled hands as if to squeeze the life from him. “You-”

Loki turned his wrist and forced his palm down, the strings of magic mimicking his action. Thor’s bonds instantly slammed to the ground, jarring the blond with the sudden blow to his knees. A cry slipped loose as pain flared into a dull ache. Loki stalked closer, robe flaring behind him. 

“I believe this is for the best, dear heart. You are too precious to lose.” Loki bent down on one knee and gently brushed some stray hairs away from Thor’s face. “Will you forgive me?”

Thor pulled back, narrowing his eyes. “You restrain me as a prisoner and ask for my forgiveness?!”

A snarl curled Loki’s lip. “I do. After all…” With a swiftness usually saved for battle, Loki’s hand was fisted in those blond locks again and viscously yanking his head back. He leaned forward and placed his lips against the shell of Thor’s ear. “I forgave you.” 

A whisper that held so much emotion: alienation, fear, a biting venom, and a depth of dark warning that beckoned Thor to not do the same. 

A shudder wracked the thunder god’s body, but rage was not present in the churning feelings. Thor found his blazing anger shifting into a carnal hunger. Shifting his head was not possible, but he needed to distance himself. Keep his anger, his injured pride. Anything that would work as a shield. “You cannot do this.”

Loki dropped the golden strands and stood back, enjoying the power of looking down on his crowned brethren. “But I have. What is next in your views that I may break down and destroy, I wonder?”

**Author's Note:**

> Onward to sex!
> 
> Post soon.


End file.
